


Reflections of A Broken Mirror

by ElvenSister



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: AU, F/M, Feelings, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Smut, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2018-12-11 21:08:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11722599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvenSister/pseuds/ElvenSister
Summary: Somewhere in the ass end of Ferelden, a slaver caravan is eviscerated by a petite blood mage. News of this unusual event catch the pointy ear of a certain white-haired man who's not the least bit surprised.--This is an AU fic. If I told more, I'd be giving the story away.





	1. One Day in Ferelden

Ilyria Hagen had been having a good day. She'd sold lots of merchandise in a small village where the local shop offered only the barest necessities. There hadn't been a proper place to sleep in, so she'd set off through the woods to the next town. "It's close by," they'd said. "You should have no trouble getting there." She'd believed them for quite some time – until she'd been attacked by slavers. The Maker only knew why they had been trolling a lonely forest for potential slaves, but there she'd been, ready for the taking.

Being surprised by slavers hadn't been quite like Ilyria had pictured it. Not that she'd spent copious amounts of time picturing how it would be if she was surprised by slavers, but she spent much of her time on the road, giving her mind ample opportunity to wander. There were no sleazy comments, no bravado; merely an evil smile. She was no challenge to them, though she tried her all. She kicked and screamed and bit, but to no avail. She was caught and bound and put in the cage with an angry elven man. The slavers sounded happy to find her goods. The elf cursed when he heard them.

"Stupid shem," he said and kicked her. "Could have put up more of a fight. Now they have your stuff and can make a longer route."

"Did putting up a fight help you, idiot? Because you are stuck here, just like me," replied Ilyria.

He muttered at her in Elvish and spat. "At least I tried. And I wasn't walking around, singing for everyone to spot me from miles away."

Ilyria went pale. She hadn't thought of that. She always sang when she was on the road. "Is that how they found me?"

"Why, genius, yes it was," the elf replied and gave her an evil grin. "They took a detour when they heard you sing. They figured they'd get a nice price for a singing slave."

"Like I'd sing for them."

"Believe me, you will. One of them is a mage – a blood mage."

Ilyria felt cold allover. Of course she'd heard the stories of the horrible powers mages possessed. Blood mages were cursed because they'd looked a demon squarely in the face and said yes. They were mad, the lot of them, the Templars said. And Tevinter was ruled by mages such as them.

"How do you... How do you know?" she asked.

"Well, cutting his hand before casting was sort of a clue," her companion replied.

"Isn't your sarcasm a bit misplaced?"

"Why? It's not like I'll have anything else of my own," he replied and looked at her gloomily. "You're not one of those damned optimists, are you? Because if you start going on about how we'll be saved, I'll tan your- -"

The words died on his lips and he paused to listen. The slavers stopped. Something ahead of them had made them wary. 

"What is..." Ilyria began to ask, but the elf shushed her. He was craning to see what was happening.

A small, dark shape was standing in their path. It wore a dark cloak with a hood that covered most of the wearer's face. One of the slavers laughed.

"Well, isn't this a busy day. Let's go get her." 

A couple of the slavers stayed behind with their prisoners while the other three dismounted and stalked towards the dark figure. They were a few feet away when they all started to scream in agony.

"The bitch is a mage!!! Kill her!" One of them managed before his voice was carried off to the netherworld with its owner.

The two remaining slavers prepared to fight. The blood mage cut his hand and yelled some words of power. He was pushed into the ground by an invisible force before he could finish. Roots rose from the earth to bind the remaining slavers in their place, neither of them able to move. The dark shape approached them. When it came closer, Ilyria could see that it was a woman who was cutting into her own hand. She squeezed some of the blood into her knife hand and threw it at the frozen slavers. She uttered something Ilyria didn't catch. The slavers exploded where the blood landed on them.

"I really hate slavers," the woman said, more for her own than for their benefit.

She looted the bodies and found the key to the cage.

"Here you go," she said and tossed the key at Ilyria. "Feel free to help yourselves."

"Er... Thank you?" Ilyria said but the woman had already turned to away. She waved a hand in the air to signify that it had been no trouble. She took one of the horses and shooed the others away to fend for themselves in the forest.

Ilyria stared at the key in her hand. "What the hell just happened?" she asked.

"You got handed the key to freedom and you are wasting time on questioning whether you want to be free or not," the elf replied and snatched the key from her hand. He opened the door and hastened out to see if there was anything useful left. Ilyria followed him slowly, trying to process what was going on.

"Who was that?" she asked.

"What does it matter?" the elf replied. "Stuff your pockets and take a hike if you want to live, genius. Or you could stay here, mourning your lost fame as the singing slave. The choice is yours."

She knew that he was right. She went through the bodies and the supplies and took what she could. She began to unfasten the cage to be able to take the remaining horse when the elf's hand landed on her arm.

"No way am I letting you take the horse," he said. "I need to get back home."

"How am I supposed to travel? They killed my donkey."

"I was held longer which means that my home is farther away. It is only right that I should have the horse. You can run after one of the others."

"But I am weaker and cannot fend for myself, as you yourself pointed out. I need the horse to survive."

”Yes, you are weaker,” he said and pushed her away from the horse. He took the reins and mounted the mare with every intention of leaving, but – in a fit of thoughtlessness so typical to her character – Ilyria threw herself at the horse and grabbed the reins into her hand. She just stood there, hugging the horse while locking her fist around the leather straps with her eyes closed.

”Let go, genius, unless you want me to ride over you.”

”No! You are not about to ride away and prove that everything people say about the Dalish is true! You are going to show them that you are a decent human being by taking me with you.”

”Dirthara-ma…”

Ilyria didn’t know what that meant by she took it as a good sign that he hadn’t ridden over her yet. He sighed and repeated what she knew had to be a curse of some sort.

”Give me your hand before I change my mind,” he said sourly.

Ilyria decided that smiling would have been a bad move on her part. She moved quickly and got on the horse with the elf’s help. He clicked his tongue and the horse began a slow walk forwards.

”Where are we going?” Ilyria asked after some time.

”Do you know how easy it would be for me to push you off this horse?”

”Oh, come on, you took me with you when you could have left me.”

”A mistake that is easily fixed.”

”Fine, I’ll stay quiet if that’s what you want.”

”I’ll believe it when I see it.”

”One more thing.”

”Hmph.”

”I would like to know the name of the person who I am hugging like my life depends on it,” Ilyria said.

”Ghilan.”

”I’d say nice to meet you, but it really isn’t. I’m Ilyria. It refers to the land where my family is from. Does your name mean anything?”

”Guidance.”

”Was someone being sarcastic?”

”Dirthamen.”

Ilyria had no idea if that was a legitimate answer or if Ghilan was cursing her again. She decided to remain silent for a while for that seemed to be what her companion desired.

It was getting dark. The moon was a mere sliver in the sky which made traveling through the night an unadvisable choice. Ghilan stopped the horse and looked around. He seemed to spot something and ordered the horse moving again. Soon Ilyria realized what he was looking at – a trail of smoke was rising to the sky.

”Why are we honing in towards a campfire? It could be the bandits.”

”Only two kinds of people make a fire that big in a forest like this – ones who don’t know any better and ones who know for a fact that the forest holds nothing worse than them,” Ghilan said.

”Neither of those sounds like someone I’d like to meet.”

Ghilan did not comment. Chills went down Ilyria’s spine. She could jump off the horse and run away if need be. But the prospect of a warm and comfortable campfire was alluring after everything that had happened. Maybe it would be alright. She sighed.

”You are being optimistic again, I can feel it,” Ghilan said.

”Me? You’re the one who’s set on rolling the dice on doom or dumb.”

Ghilan chuckled drily. They saw the campfire and the lone figure sitting in front of it.

”I know you,” it said. ”I see you didn’t get lost in the woods.”

Ilyria looked into the face of their savior. How had Ghilan done it? Why had he done it?

”Get down, the horse needs a rest,” Ghilan said and shoved Ilyria. She half jumped, half fell off and landed shakily on her feet. It had been a very long and trying day.

”You look like you’re a drink short,” the petite woman said and tossed Ilyria a flask. She sniffed the strong smell and deduced that it contained some sort of spirits. She took a long swig, which might not have been the best of ideas. The stuff was so strong she had trouble keeping it down. The other woman chuckled. ”Aren’t you a lightweight. Toss it to lover boy over there,” she said, waving her hand towards Ghilan who was preparing the horse for the night. He huffed but let the comment pass and took the flask when Ilyria tossed it at him. He took some and threw the small bottle back to the lady in black who secreted it about her person.

”I can take the first watch,” said she. ”Which of you wants the second?”

Ilyria caught Ghilan’s meaningful look. ”I can do it.”

”Alright. Go to sleep, I’ll wake you up in a couple of hours or so.”

Ilyria settled down next to the fire and tried to wrap her coat more tightly around herself. She was tired but unsure if she’d be able to sleep.

\--

”Rise and shine, snoozy.”

Ilyria opened her eyes. The night wasn’t as dark as it had been when she’d fallen asleep. She yawned and stretched. 

”I could have used a few more hours of sleep,” she said.

”You’ll get them when lover boy is keeping watch,” the other woman replied. She went to her bedroll and squirmed around inside it to make herself comfortable. ”Night.”

”Hey, don’t go to sleep yet. You saved our lives and gave us a place to sleep, but I don’t even know your name,” Ilyria said hastily. 

”What, you don’t like sleeping with people whose names you don’t know?”

”Well, I may have erred in the past…” Ilyria began with a blush before she caught herself. ”That’s not the same thing at all.”

”You’re right. I’m not planning on getting either of you naked and fucking you senseless. I just want to sleep. Can we dispense with the introductions until a more reasonable hour and have a little shut-eye?”

”Yes.”

”Thank you. Night.”

”Night.”

Ilyria was left alone to wonder at the direction her life had taken in such a short time. To have the most horrible thing happen to her, to be taken by slavers, only to be rescued by a mysterious… whoever she was. But who was she? Ilyria had nothing but time in the wee hours of the night, so she pondered on the identity of their savior. She was a blood mage, which had to make her an apostate, though she did not fit the image the Chantry had presented of apostates. She was not mad with power – or if she was, it did not show. And she’d killed the other blood mage without any sign of regret. Her accent was nondescript, stangely so. Ilyria could have believed her to be a Marcher or a Fereldan, why not even a Tevinter… Could she be from there? Ilyria’s imagination was quick to paint her as a magister, or an apprentice maybe, who’d grown a conscience and left her life of luxury behind to fight her evil countrymen and save innocents bound for slavery. She lived on the road and off the land, killing bad guys and feasting on their money, helping those in need when she could. 

Ilyria amused herself with the imagined exploits of the mystery woman as long as her watch continued. Then she woke up the less than pleased Ghilan and went back to sleep to dream of adventures and acts of heroism.

\--

”Aren’t you ever going to wake up?”

”Five more minutes…” Ilyria mumbled with her eyes closed.

”No,” Ghilan’s angry voice replied. ”If I don’t see you moving your ass right at this second, I’m going to leave without you. The blood mage said that the nearest village is a couple of hours away and I for one cannot get there soon enough.”

Ilyria sat up, rubbed her eyes, and yawned. When she looked around, she saw only Ghilan, their horse, and a little soot where the fire used to be.

”She already left?”

”Yes, she was up an hour ago, but told me to let you sleep. She left some breakfast for you, too.”

”But… Didn’t she say anything? Give her name?”

”She said, ’Take it easy’,” he replied and looked at her. ”Why do you care what her name was? It doesn’t matter one way or the other. She has her path, we have ours.”

”How come you don’t care? Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

”Not caring is easy. It’s the caring that’s hard. Get a move on, I want to get home before my hair turns gray.”

”Too late.”

”Fen'Harel ma halam,” he muttered and went to look after the horse.

As Ilyria prepared to go, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for missing the opportunity of getting to know the lady in black. Everything about her screamed that she had a story to tell.

”Are you coming?”

Ilyria groaned. ”You are so not a lover b- Wait, it was sarcasm, wasn’t it?”

”Took you long enough,” Ghilan chuckled and helped her mount the horse.

\--

”Thank the Maker, we are here!” Ilyria sighed when they found the village.

”Not a moment too soon,” Ghilan said. ”We need to get our hands on a map.”

”Food would be nice, too.”

”Food we can get from the forest,” Ghilan replied and spoke up to address a farmer. ”Excuse me, would you be so kind as to tell us where we are?”

”See, you can be nice when you want to,” Ilyria whispered and was answered with a sharp stab from an elbow. 

”That would be Elmswood,” the farmer replied. ”We don’t usually see that many travelers about, but you are the second to come around today.”

”Thank you. Have a nice day,. Ghilan said and continued onwards.

”Who do you think it was that came here before us? Do you think it was our savior?” 

”I wish she’d told us her name that you’d stop calling her that,” Ghilan grumbled. ”What is it to you who it was? Why must you always be so curious?”

”Never mind,” said Ilyria. ”Let’s find a merchant and get that map.”

The village was indeed small, but at least there were a few shops. Ilyria and Ghilan dismounted and fastened their horse securely before stepping into the first shop. It held only food items which, though delectable, did not help their cause. The second shop looked more promising. There was already a customer who was staring at the selection like it had offended him. Ilyria was struck by his appearance from the first – never had she seen such a handsome man. His hair was white, his skin was caramel brown and covered in white markings that shone even in the poor light of the shop. Ghilan was less impressed with the stranger and passed him with merely a glance.

”We have a need for a map of the surrounding area,” he informed the shopkeeper. ”Do you have such an item?”

”Yes, as a matter of fact I do,” was the reply and the merchant pulled out a parchment and laid it open on the counter for their perusal. ”In excellent condition, as you can well see. Five silver pieces and it’s yours.”

Ghilan took out the coins he’d managed to loot from their kidnappers. It wasn’t enough. He turned to Ilyria. ”Do you have more?”

Ilyria rummaged through her things. She came up with a few copper pieces, but they still fell a silver short.

”Can you help us out?” Ilyria asked the merchant. ”We were taken by Tevinter slavers and are just trying to get back home.”

A silver piece flew through the air and landed on the counter. All three looked at the white-haired elf. ”What?” he asked in a voice so captivating Ilyria forgot for a second what she’d been doing.

”Thank you, sir,” said she after regaining her senses. ”It’s good to see that the world isn’t devoid of kind people, despite what some would have us believe.” She gave Ghilan a meaningful glance. ”You are the second person to help us in as many days.”

This seemed to peak his interest. ”Did you not say that you were taken by slavers?”

”After which we were rescued, set free, and fed.”

”By whom?”

Ilyria shrugged. ”We don’t know. She didn’t give a name.”

The man nodded. ”That sounds accurate,” he said, more to himself than to them. ”How about we make a deal – I’ll pay for lunch if you tell me of this person and what happened.”

”Why do you care?” Ilyria asked, borrowing a page from Ghilan’s book. 

Ghilan elbowed her again. ”It doesn’t matter, does it?” he argued. ”We are hungry and he is offering to buy us food for information. Of course we have a deal.”

They concluded their business in the shop and went together to the only place in town that offered food one didn’t have to cook. It was a tavern of some sort, no more and no less than one could expect to find in a place like Elmswood. They sat at a corner table and the white-haired elf bought them all whatever meal was on the menu. The food came and they dug in.

”I have fulfilled my end of the bargain,” said he. ”It’s time you fulfilled yours.”

Ghilan and Ilyria looked at each other. His raised eyebrow told her that he meant her to be the one to earn their meal. She sighed and began spinning the tale of their capture, release, and the night spent with their benefactor. She’d planned on being sparse in her description, but the subject was such that she could not help herself. She relived the story as she told it minutely, expressing her distress and relief, her wonder and confusion. She told of their liberator, her sparse, sarcastic comments, her looks, and way of talking.

”When I woke up this morning she was gone, having left us some breakfast instead of her name,” she ended her story.

The stranger only nodded and turned to Ghilan. ”You were awake when she left. What direction did she take? Did she say where she was going?”

”I believe she went southwards, muttering about warming her poor little toes,” he replied.

The white-haired elf stood up and threw some money on the table. ”Thank you, you have been most helpful. I wish you both a safe journey home.” He made to leave, but stopped and turned around hesitantly. ”I do not see that it makes any difference, but since it troubles you… I do not presume to know what name she goes by now, but her real name is Hawke.”

And, just like that, he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is at the moment a side project of mine, so I cannot promise regular updates. I do plan on continuing this in the fullness of time, though, since I am fond of the ideas I have for this.


	2. Bittersweet Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW content.

Fenris spurred his steed to canter. Never before had he been this close catching up to her. He calculated that if he was lucky, he could be able to reach her by the nightfall if he kept the speed up. She had a horse, yes, but she’d be sparing it. She couldn’t know that he was on her trail, could she?

He chuckled drily as he thought of the woman who’d spun her tale. Hawke had the knack of making a lasting impression wherever she went. Two chance meetings had been enough to make the talkative female sing her praises like a nightingale on lyrium. She was sure to tell the story to her grandchildren if she ever had any. Or maybe to have grandchildren just to tell them the tale. She reminded him of the dwarf, though remembering Varric always brought to mind one particular, unpleasant memory.

\--

Fenris rushed through the doorway to Varric’s room when he was met with a firm kick that brought him to the ground on his back. He found himself staring up at the sharp end of the dwarf’s crossbow.

“What did you do?” the dwarf asked menacingly.

“This is not the time, dwarf. I’m looking for Hawke.”

“That’s not what I asked, so I ask again – what did you do?” The crossbow got marginally closer.

Fenris had never seen Varric so pissed off, not even when his brother had left them in the Deep Roads.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Broody,” Varric growled. “Hawke is gone. No one has seen or heard from her in days. No note, no message, nothing. I know it was you, so fess up, or I’ll pull the trigger.”

“You’re not going to kill me.”

“Who said anything about killing you?” the dwarf asked, moving the head of the bolt around his body. “Maybe just make a nice new hole. Don’t think that I won’t.”

Fenris saw that he meant it. Varric wasn’t a merciless person, but Hawke was his friend.

“I… went to see her a couple of days ago, right after her mother…” Fenris said, the words getting stuck on his throat. “I meant to comfort her.”

“And?”

Fenris colored. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want this to be happening. He didn’t want any of it to have happened. “Just connect the dots, dwarf!”

“You aren’t getting away that easy. I want you to say it! Say, what you did!”

“I slept with her! Is that what you want to hear? I slept with her and it hurt and I left! And now I can’t find her anywhere!”

“You fucking, heartless moron! You broke her!” Varric practically spat. “What in Thedas possessed you to even sleep with her? Do you really hate her that much?”

“I don’t hate her, I love her!” Fenris yelled. He hadn’t meant to say it, but he was so angry and agitated that the truth escaped him before he had a chance to consider his words.

“Well, your love is shit! Now she’s gone for good. Are you happy?”

“Do I look happy to you?”

“You haven’t looked happy once in your life, Broody.”

I was happy when I was in her arms, Fenris thought bitterly. At that moment the door of the Hanged Man was slammed open with force and a city guard ran through.

“The qunari are attacking!” he yelled. “They’re killing people and taking hostages!”

Varric growled and put his weapon away, but regret was obvious in his eyes.

“We have to go clean up this mess and we have to do that without Hawke, thanks to you,” he said. “But don’t think for a second that I’m finished with you.”

Fenris got up and followed the angry dwarf onto the turbulent streets.

\--

Fenris found the place where Hawke and her protégés had spent the night. He turned his steed south and spurred it forward again. He was so close. He felt the anticipation throughout his entire body. His jaw tightened, his hands tingled, and there was a burn around his chest and stomach. He kept a close eye on the surroundings, looking for any signs of recent passage. He estimated that he had a couple more hours before the night would fall. If he hadn’t caught up to her by then, he’d have to think about camping for the night.

The time ticked slowly by without presenting any new evidence of Hawke’s passage or whereabouts. Fenris’ horse was getting tired, so he had to slow down, but he was determined to keep going as fast as he was able. He thought back the… Had it already been a year? At first it had felt strange being the hunter instead of the prey, but he’d gotten used to it in time. The first few months had been hopeless. No leads, no clues, nothing. It had taken him quite some time to device a method of tracking her, mostly because he hadn’t been thinking clearly. He’d been on the verge of giving up when it had come to him – Hawke made an impression on people. She couldn’t help it. She wouldn’t roam around the forests, spending time with mere animals. That wasn’t like her. She ended up helping people, sometimes despite herself. Whatever she did, there would be stories. So Fenris had listened. All the local tales and gossip, everything any traveler had to relate about what they’d heard on the road from another traveler. It had been tedious work, for he was not one known for his love for society, but it had produced results. Little by little he’d been able to catch tidbits of her adventures and whereabouts. Months later he was here, only hours behind her.

Darkness descended earlier than Fenris would have preferred. He debated within whether to carry on or to make a camp, but the year had taught him that he was in no rush. Rest was essential, even this close to finding her. He dismounted and walked his horse to a suitable spot near a brook. He dressed the animal down and fastened it loosely to a nearby tree so that it could eat and drink at its leisure. He had a bite to eat and took out his bedroll. The night was so warm that a fire was unnecessary. He settled down in his bedroll, turned on his back, and put his hands behind his head. He looked up at the few stars that shone between the clouds and thought of a similar night in the past.

\--

“Look at that star! Why is it looking at me?”

“No one is looking at you, witch,” Fenris replied sourly.

“Hush, you,” Hawke said and nudged him. “Why do you feel like it’s looking at you, Merrill?”

“It keeps winking at me,” the little elf answered. “Like it knows something I do not.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Fenris said.

“Raise your hand if you’re not being helpful,” Hawke said and nudged him again. He scowled at her, but he didn’t really mind. He quite liked being close to her and being touched by her which she knew. That was why their bedrolls were next to each other while Merrill and Isabela slept on the other side of the fire.

“Winking can mean other things, much more fun things,” the pirate commented. “Or at least lead to them.”

“What sort of things?” the blood mage asked innocently.

“Footsie, dry humping, hand jobs, oral, good old-fashioned, anal…”

“Bela!” Hawke cut her off. “Please!”

“Begging,” the pirate said. “I like it.” 

The little elf had turned burning red. “I… I don’t know what half of those mean, but they sound awfully dirty.”

“Oh, you bet,” Isabela replied with a lewd smile. “I’d be happy to explain, if you’d like, my dear.”

“Look how bright the stars are tonight,” Hawke said loudly, trying desperately to change the subject. “That could mean something. Perhaps.”

“Ooh, like what?” the little elf asked, her curiosity peaked.

“Yes, Hawke, what could that mean?” Fenris asked, perfectly aware that she had nothing and would have to come up with something on the fly. She gave him a withering stare that made him grin.

“Er… Like…” she mumbled, but then gathered her wits. “When we were little, our father used to tell us a story.”

“Was it a love story?” Merrill asked.

“Yes, it was a love story,” Hawke agreed. “Once upon a time, there was a handsome prince.”

“I like it that princes are always handsome in stories,” Merrill commented. “Does he find a princess?”

“Hush, my dear, let her tell the story,” Isabela said.

“Yes, I also want to hear where this is going,” said Fenris and smirked at Hawke.

Hawke smiled mysteriously and continued her story. As it progressed, it dawned on Fenris that she was actually a skillful storyteller. There was usually no need for her to showcase her talent because the dwarf was their go-to tale spinner, but it turned out that Hawke could have done the job as well. Fenris couldn’t figure out if she made the story as she went along or if she’d heard it before. It didn’t matter, though. The way she told it made it seem like it was hers.

In the story, the handsome prince didn’t find a princess. He was found by a peasant’s daughter. Their great love didn’t start without a hitch – there was much pride on one side and sarcasm on the other. Through several encounters they learned to appreciate each other and see what was worthy in the other. The love came on gradually, without either realizing it until the prince almost died. When he was out of danger, they embraced each other, confessed their feelings, and had passionate sex that was definitely not part of any story told to children. They lived several years in happiness until the prince’s enemies caught up with them and wounded the lady fatally. She died in his arms with a promise to look after him from the sky in the form of the brightest of stars.

“That was… beautiful. And sad,” Merrill said with teary eyes.

“It was,” Isabela agreed. Even she was looking a bit moist around the eyes.

As the other two fell into discussion about something or other, Fenris turned to Hawke.

“Did your father really tell you that story?” he asked her with a low voice.

“Nah, totally pulled it out of my ass,” she replied and winked. “Don’t tell Merrill.”

Fenris chuckled. “I knew it.”

“Oh, come on, you didn’t know. I was good, admit it.”

“Yes, Hawke, you made great bullshit. You could give the dwarf a run for his money.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” she said and leaned back on her bedroll to look at the sky. “I love stories. It’s true that our father used to tell us fairytales all the time when we were growing up. He had a gift; he could make any story alive.”

“It must be nice to remember your father, even though he has passed. I have no memory of my parents.”

“What? None at all? I’m sorry, Fenris.”

“I don’t need your pity, Hawke.”

“It wasn’t pity I was offering, Fenris, it was sympathy. If you could one day get it through your thick skull that I care for you, I would greatly appreciate it.”

Fenris didn’t reply anything, but Hawke’s words and the regard they spoke of warmed his soul.

\--

Fenris sighed and turned to lie on his side. Usually he had no trouble sleeping, but presently he was in such an inner turmoil that sleep was keeping its distance. He could think of only one way to do away with his present predicament. He loosened his pants under the cover and slipped his hand on his cock. He began fondling it while thinking about his one night with Hawke. How he’d gone to her home to comfort her, but ended up confessing his feelings, and asked to be sent away. Instead, she’d embraced him and kissed him with such fervor, pushing him against the wall. The kissing had made him hard, like thinking about it had since. They’d made their cumbersome way to the bedroom, discarding clothes on the way. The first time he’d seen her naked… It had been so much better than all the times he’s pictured her in the dark hours of night, trying to find his pleasure at the mere image of her. Her perk, pink nipples, her supple breasts, her light skin and the way her dark hair fell on it like a veil. There was a fire in her blue eyes when she looked at him and saw his hunger for her. There had been words, but they weren’t important, mere accompaniment to the main event. He’d walked her to the bed and covered her body with his. He’d acquainted himself with every curve and valley of her figure, feeling and kissing his way down to her wet warmth. He’d almost come the first time he tasted her, just like she had then. His name on her lips when she came was the sweetest sound in the whole of creation. He’d smiled the smile of a winner and licked his lips. Then he’d ascended her body, trailing kisses on the way to her lips. Her satisfied smile had been absolutely gorgeous, but it was pale compared to the face she made when he entered her. She’d been so tight and warm and wet and soft and- -

Fenris came with an animalistic moan. He breathed for a little while, settling his breath. Then he took some leaves and cleaned himself, making sure that no cum was left on his clothes, bedroll, or hands. After that was done, he turned around, closed his eyes, sighed, and fell asleep.

\--

Fenris was woken up by the telltale sound of a glyph being cast. His eyes flew open and he tried to spring up, but couldn’t. He was stuck on his bedroll, unable to move. He could see movement from the periphery of his eye.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the mighty Champion of Kirkwall. So it was you following me after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops? This is what happens when I have a beginning and an end and then run out of stuff to write, but still need like a page more... Apologies.


	3. Why?

Even though Fenris couldn’t see the speaker, he knew that voice. How he’d longed to hear it, day to day, night to night. Some days, when he’d been at the bottom of desperation, he would have done anything to hear it again. It wouldn’t have mattered, what it said – he’d have taken even the scolding and the sarcastic comments, let alone the sweet nothings of their single night together. Hearing it now… It was like a breath of fresh air to a man who had been living in a cellar for years. “Hawke.”

A petite dark shape moved into his line of sight. The morning light was enough for him to see more than the outline. She was just as lithe as he remembered her, with the familiar curves. The cowl covered most of her hair, though not her face. Her countenance had acquired a hardness that hadn’t been there before, except for when she was dealing with slavers and the like. There was a scar on her left cheek that was new. It had to have been made with a special weapon if health potion and healing hadn’t taken it away. Probably a memento from her time in Tevinter, then. Her blue eyes that were fixed on him had a coldness in them. It didn’t surprise him, but he didn’t like it.

She assumed her usual “interrogating a scumbag” stance which reassured Fenris a little. Some things hadn’t changed.

“What are you doing here, oh Champion?” she asked, sarcasm dripping over the title.

“I need to talk to you.”

She raised an unbelieving eyebrow. “With a given value of ‘talk’, I should imagine. You wish to make me repent my evil apostate blood mage ways?”

“How could you? After everything you saw in Kirkwall, after what happened to you mother? You knew the price! How could you?” Fenris hadn’t meant to quarrel about the blood magic, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Yes, I knew the price – what of it?” she said coolly and stared him squarely in the eye.

“There will be a reckoning.”

“Been there, done that, bought the souvenirs,” she said and shrugged. “The demon wasn’t half bad, by the way. He was much more polite than anyone you’d ever meet at the Hanged Man and he was nice to look at, great in bed. It was almost a pity to kill him.”

“You slept with a demon?”

She let out a dry chuckle. “I tell you that I dealt with the situation, paid the price for my unholy powers, and your takeout is that I slept with the demon? Get a grip, Fenris.”

The sound of his name from her lips made Fenris pull himself together. Of course she had taken lovers. She was no Chantry sister and he’d hurt her. The rational part of him knew that he couldn’t blame her. That didn’t affect the dark hand of jealousy that was strangling his throat. Who else had she embraced? Who else had been allowed to touch her, to taste her, to pleasure her? Whose name had she spoken in the throes of passion?

Fenris shook his head to clear it. Hawke was right, he needed to get a grip. “Regardless, I’m not here to kill you, Hawke.”

“I find that hard to believe. You must have been following me for some time to track me here. Why? You’re the Champion of Kirkwall, the savior of the city, the killer of the Arishok. Why would you leave your life of respectability and freedom to chase down a forgotten nobody if not to kill me?”

“I didn’t forget you, Hawke. I couldn’t.”

“Fuck you, Fenris. I know you’re up to something. Is it too much to expect a little honesty?” she asked. “Scratch that, it obviously is. I know better than to expect you to be up front and honest about anything, at least not until it’s way too late.”

Annoyance made a crack in her otherwise cool appearance. She walked closer to Fenris who was still on the ground, motionless, though the glyph had disappeared ages ago.

“So, I ask again – why are you here?”

“I got your letter.”

She huffed. “That’s it? You came for revenge? You wanted to kill him yourself? You can be such a baby, Fenris. Besides, it wasn’t ‘my letter’. I had my agent send it.”

“Why?”

“I had more important stuff to do.”

“No, why did you have it sent?”

\--

That day, Fenris walked home from the Keep. He had been visiting the seneschal. There had been some boring matter to deal with, though he didn’t understand why it was he who had to deal with it. He missed the days of being no one important, not being accountable to anyone but himself. He had been happier then. And Hawke had been there which had made all the difference.

He sighed. It had been little over a year since she had disappeared into thin air. No one had any idea of her whereabouts. She had abandoned her entire life in Kirkwall and it appeared that she didn’t miss it, wherever she was. If she had sent any news to any of her friends, none of them had told him. Not that he blamed them.

He opened the door to his mansion. There was no more cringe of the hinges, they had been oiled. There were no more decaying corpses, they had been taken away, and the rooms had been cleaned and refurnished. The mansion looked like someone important lived there. He nodded absently to his servant who greeted him.

“There are a few letters for you, messere,” he said.

“Thank you. I’ll look at them later,” Fenris replied. He had dealt with enough paperwork for one day.

“If I may be so bold, messere,” the servant said, which was unlike him, “one of them is very fancy and has come all the way from Tevinter.”

Fenris’ head snapped up. “Tevinter?” Who could possibly write to him from there? Who knew where he was? “Let me see it.”

The man gave him one of the letters and he grabbed it hastily. “Thank you.”

He hurried to his bedroom, shut the door, discarded his sword, and sat down at the desk. He flipped the letter over. The seal made his blood freeze. It belonged to Danarius’ agent. What new trick was this? He knew that his old master would not leave him alone as long as he breathed, but this was unprecedented. Was he taking legal action? Was he writing to inform him that they had his sister? It had to be some sort of an attempt at manipulation, but he couldn’t bring himself to throw the letter out without knowing. He opened the envelope carefully and pulled out an expensive-looking sheet of paper. He unfolded it, dreading the content. He steeled himself and read the few lines it contained:

“To whom it may concern,

The bearer of this document, a male elf by the name of Fenris, formerly a slave of Magister Danarius of Tevinter Imperium, is a free man now and forevermore, by the grace of the Maker and the benevolence of his Archon.

Signed (p.p. Marian Alessandra Hawke),  
Procurator Aegidius Harpax”

\--

“I gave freedom papers to all his former slaves,” she said, like it was no big deal.

Fenris smiled. “I know. I went there and asked.”

“Carried by a wave of homesickness?”

“No. The moment I saw your name on that document, I had to know,” he stated. “I left the following day and I haven’t been back.”

\--

“Hanno.”

The old elf turned around so fast he dropped his sickle. “Fenris? Is that really you?”

“Has age affected your eyesight, old man?” Fenris asked with a wry smile.

“Andraste’s ass, it really is you! I thought you were dead,” he said and offered Fenris his hand. They shook hands warmly. “What has happened to you? Have you finally returned home now that you’re a free man?”

“It’s a long story, my friend.”

“Let’s go inside. You can tell me over a cup of tea,” Hanno replied. He picked up his sickle and led his guest towards a modest house. More of a hut than a house, really. He opened the door and they stepped inside. “It’s not much, but at least it’s our own.”

“How’s Petra?”

“She’s fine. She’s still at work,” Hanno replied and looked at his guest while he prepared the tea. “You have changed. Small talk is not like you.”

“I have been doing more than running and fighting,” Fenris replied. “But my capacity for small talk is still limited. I came here because of the freedom paper. I want to know what happened.”

Hanno’s face lit up into a radiant smile. “Mistress Hawke killed Danarius and set us all free.”

“But how, when, why?”

“Well, I don’t know much of the details. I was working in the fields when it all happened.”

“But you have heard things, you always did.”

The old elf grinned. “Surprisingly little is known, but I have heard a few things.”

Hanno took the kettle off the fire and poured the tea into two cups, one of which he handed to his impatient guest. He took a sip of his own beverage.

“And?” Fenris hastened him along.

“As I understand it,” Hanno began, “she arrived in Tevinter several months before it all went down. She did her research, bargained with a demon, honed her skills, learned the language, and studied the law. Then she challenged him for his money and possessions. No one knows why he accepted, for he had nothing to gain. Probably it was a matter of ego, wanting to put her to her place and humiliate her in public. Accepting her challenge was the last mistake he ever made – she eviscerated him. You hear stories about the battle, but they must be exaggerated.”

Fenris thought of Hawke’s powers and what he had seen her do. When you added blood magic to that…

“I am not so certain,” he said. “What happened after the fight?”

“She became the talk of Minrathous, of course,” Hanno said. “She got invited to every party, but wouldn’t go to any of them. ‘I fucking hate slavers,’ she used to say and throw the invitations to the fire. She didn’t stay here long, only long enough to free every slave and give each of us a bit of money to make a new start. Then she just left.”

“Where did she go?”

Hanno shrugged. “No one knows for certain. Someone said she muttered about taking her home back from darkspawn, but that’s hearsay.”

Fenris nodded. That meant Ferelden. “Thank you, Hanno. You have been most helpful.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Hanno asked when Fenris got up to leave. “You haven’t told me anything of what you have been up.”

Fenris sat back down. This was going to take a while.

\--

“I feel like I’m repeating myself,” Hawke said and sat down on a fallen tree, “but why?”

“Where did you get that scar?” Fenris asked and sat up on his bedroll.

“Danarius got in a lucky shot. No big deal. It was just like that bastard to use an enchanted dagger. I bet he’d had to put spells all the time on pointy things to make them stay hard.”

“May I?” Fenris asked, extending his hand towards her cheek. He was dying to touch her. He hadn’t touched… He hadn’t touched anyone since shaking hands with Hanno as a goodbye. Killing didn’t count. He was starving for some skin contact, especially with her. Merely looking at her face, he could almost feel the softness of her cheek under his fingers. It would be a little cool on account of the air, but his touch would make it warmer because his closeness would make her blush.

“Now you want to touch me? Aren’t you afraid I’ll bring back bad memories?” Hawke asked bitterly. “Or is it only my magical, amnesia-curing cunt that you can’t deal with?”

Fenris pulled his hand back like she’d hit him. He deserved it, he knew, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

“I’m sorry, Hawke,” he said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you meant, Fenris. I was stupid to think you were my friend who cared for me. I should have known that my magic was too much for you to ignore.”

“I am your friend. I do care for you.”

“No, Varric is my friend. He didn’t fuck me and cast me aside like a filthy hooker. And now you’ve tracked me down to kill me,” she got up and started pacing about.

“For Andraste’s sake, Hawke, I didn’t come after you because I want to kill you,” Fenris swore and shot up to his feet. He caught up with Hawke and took hold of her arms. “I needed to tell you that I love you!”

“Isn’t that romantic?” a new, mocking voice boomed from somewhere close. “Too bad you don’t get to enjoy your fairytale ending now that we’ve finally found you.”

An evil laugh echoed in the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and feedback :)


	4. The First Time in Two Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for mention of attempted non-con.

Flint Kayne cleaned the soot from under his fingernails with a big-ass knife. He felt it was expected of the leader of a mercenary band in situations such as this. The other option would have been to clean his teeth with the knife but he was wary of his gums. His troupe made some appreciative noises, all the while hovering menacingly around the two travelers. They had them surrounded. There was no escape. Flint smiled to himself. His employer would be happy which meant a lot of coin. Maybe he could finally afford to retire, buy that small farm he’d secretly dreamed of for years.

“You love me? What do you mean you love me???”

Flint looked up from his fingernails, confused. Neither of the two was paying any attention to the forty or so mercenaries surrounding them. Instead, they were staring at each other with the intensity of burning magnesium. The elf was holding the woman like he was afraid she’d run away.

“Because I do,” the elf replied, sounding almost desperate. “I realized it the moment I noticed you were gone. I know that I hurt you and I’m incredibly sorry for that, you have no idea, Hawke. I’ve spent the last year of my life traipsing around in forests and villages, trying to catch even a glimpse of you. I had to tell you how sorry I am, how much I miss you, and that I love you.”

“Why would you lie about that? What in Maker’s name could motivate you to say that? I’m a mage, and a blood mage at that. There’s nothing in the world you hate more than my kind.”

“I could never hate you, Hawke. I hate myself for what I’ve said and done, but I could never hate you.”

“Excuse me,” Flint cut in. This had gone on long enough. He felt like he needed to resume his mastery of the situation. He was the one with the posse of dangerous people armed to the teeth. It was a given that he was in charge.

“Yes, what is it?” The woman asked, annoyed.

“We have come to take you away,” Flint said, “or to kill you, if you won’t go willingly. You are surrounded and outnumbered. There is no escape. Lay down your weapons and raise your hands.”

“Can’t we do that later? We’re in the middle of something, as you can see,” she replied.

“Do I need to reiterate the ‘surrounded and outnumbered’ part? We set the pace here, not you.” Flint was getting angry. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. The two didn’t seem the least bit concerned by the overwhelming odds, only annoyed by the disturbance to their little heart-to-heart.

“Which one of us are you after anyway?” the elf asked.

“The one that destroyed the Ferelden Circle of Mages,” he replied, “a maleficar by the name of Alessandra Sparrow.”

The elf looked at the woman standing next to him. “You destroyed the Ferelden Circle? Why?”

“’Destroyed’ is a strong word,” she replied, using air quotes. “I left the building standing. I believe many of the mages still live there.”

“You killed the Templars and the First Enchanter!” Flint pointed out. How such a small and innocuous looking person could have done that he didn’t know. They had the right person, though, he was certain of that. The description matched to a t.

“Not all the Templars. Only the ones that were sleazy or stupid enough to attack me.”

“How would you know which ones were sleazy?” the elf asked. “Why were you there in the first place?”

“There was a book I wanted to read,” she said and shrugged, “so I turned myself in. I made up a sob story and a fake name and talked my way into being one of the Circle mages. I figured it would give me a chance to see what all the fuss was about. I spent about two months there.” She noticed that the elf was giving her a disbelieving look. “It was winter time and the weather was horrible. At least it was a roof over my head and the food wasn’t bad. It was only after a couple of the Templars almost raped me that I started busting some heads.”

The elf began glowing blue. Most of the mercenaries stepped back. Even Flint felt the urge to do so. He’d never seen anything like it. It was like the man was radiating menace.

“They dared to touch you against your will?!”

“They tried. One of them paid with his life, though the other got away,” the woman answered coolly and turned to look at Flint. “That reminds me – who hired you? Was it a Templar by any chance?”

“Who else would want someone who eviscerated a Circle dead?”

“Hatred for mages runs deep,” the maleficar answered. It looked like the elf hadn’t heard her. He was staring straight at Flint.

“You were sent by an attempted rapist and you dare to stand there and assume we’d let you live?” The elf had let go of the woman and grabbed his greatsword. He was glowing more brightly and was inches away from attacking.

“We have no quarrel with you, warrior,” Flint said conciliatorily. “We are here only for the maleficar. Ser Jory, do it now.”

A mighty bang echoed in the forest when the band’s Templar hit the mage with the skill that drew her mana away. Flint did neither remember nor care what it was called, as long as it worked. The woman fell to the ground.

“Ouch,” she said. Then, quick as a flash, she had a knife in her hand. She cut herself and cast at the Templar. He was down and screaming the next moment. Flint was shocked. It was supposed to have worked. She was supposed to be useless. What had gone wrong? Who was this person and why was she able to fight? Why had she been able to take down the Templar with a single spell?

“Why- -“ was all he got out before the glowing elf rushed at him.

“How dare you touch her?” the warrior yelled and began laying waste to the mercenaries.

\--

Fenris was furious. He wasn’t going to let these bastards hurt Hawke, not when he’d finally found her. It had pained him to see the Templar hit her to the ground. And to think what they had tried to do when she’d been at the Circle… They were going to pay. Fenris was going to make them pay.

He hacked and slashed his way through the mercenaries. There were a lot of them, though only the one Templar, which was stupid. It demonstrated a lack of knowledge of mages and the danger they presented. Greater numbers were not enough to make absolutely sure that the mage would be overcome, especially one as powerful as Hawke. Fenris caught a glimpse of her once in a while. She was casting slowly and efficiently, keeping ahead of the enemies. He knew that she had no other choice but to use her blood now that her mana had been wiped away. If she took too much, she would pass out and they’d get her. The thought made him cringe and work harder. They had managed to take down about half of the attackers, but many were still left. Fenris downed a potion to be able to keep going. It was the last one he had left.

“Hawke, how are you doing?”

“I’ll survive,” was the reply. “You wouldn’t happen to have any lyrium potion on you, would you?”

“Why would I have lyrium potion?”

“Doing what I do, you learn that people tend to carry with them the most bizarre stuff, so you never know,” she said and grunted in pain. “Fuck, I really made them angry with this Circle thing, didn’t I?”

Fenris didn’t like the pain he could hear in her voice. He fought his way towards her and tried to look at her closer when he could. She was looking paler than ever. The blood loss and the fight were wearing her down. She was trying to fend the mercenaries off with her dagger, but it wasn’t particularly effective. There were too many still left for him to handle on his own.

Fenris moved so that he was side by side with Hawke. “Use my blood.”

“What? No!” He caught her expression of surprise and disgust. “Never!”

“Fine, use my lyrium then.”

“I’m not going to do that. I know how much it hurts you,” she replied with pain in her voice.

“It’s going to hurt me more if they kill you which they will definitely do because you can’t cast without either blood or lyrium.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Do it, Hawke!”

There was a powerful pulse in the air that brought the attackers to the ground. Before he knew it, Fenris had Hawke in his arms. She hugged him and touched both her hands and all available skin on his lyrium tattoos. She looked him in the eye, her blue eyes concerned. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. That’s when the pain began. Fenris fought down the scream that was trying to erupt from him when Hawke commenced casting. It was a massive spell, he could tell by the amount of lyrium she was taking and the time it took to cast it. The enemies had gotten to their feet and were about to rush them when they were caught in a magnificent, fierce firestorm. The flames kissed the ground and burned everything in their way. The two embracing people in the eye of the storm were the only ones alive when the flames went out and the pain ended.

Fenris took a few shaking breaths. His skin tingled, but other than that he was fine. Hawke tried to step away from his arms but he wouldn’t let her. He had so longed to touch her, to hold her. It didn’t matter that it had begun with pain – most things in his life did.

“Don’t you dare go anywhere,” he said into her silken hair with his eyes closed.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“I’m not. We’re alive because of it.”

They stood there for a long time, holding each other close. Fenris was comforted by the fact that Hawke let it happen. It would seem that he wasn’t the only one who had missed being close to the other.

“Do you believe me now?” he asked.

Hawke sighed against his chest. “I don’t know, Fenris. I’m hard pressed to come up with a reason for you to track me if it’s not to kill me. If what you’re saying is true…”

“It is.”

“I don’t know what to do with that. I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s a first.”

“Har, har. Don’t get in your own way, Champion.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you – how did you know about that?”

“I may or may not have exchanged a few letters with Varric.”

Fenris swore. “He told me he hadn’t heard from you.”

“I know. He’s really freaking pissed at you,” she said. “That’s why I know that you’re not lying about having been gone for a year. He would have said something if you’d been to Kirkwall.” She chuckled. “You should have seen the first letter he sent me. He went on and on about what a bastard you are and how you break everything you touch. Did you know that he drew a picture of you and used it for target practice?”

“No, but I have no trouble imagining that.”

“He also wrote you as a villain in his latest novel. To boot, I think he gave you some sort of a sexually transmitted disease in it.”

Fenris groaned. “Lovely.”

Hawke’s stomach growled loudly. “We should probably have some food,” she said.

Fenris was reluctant to let her go, but he acknowledged the need for sustenance. The fight had taken a lot out of them both.

“I suggest relocating,” he said, looking at the burned and mangled corpses strewn around them. “I would prefer not to explain to the local law enforcement how this happened.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. We can go to my last night’s camp site,” she said. “Grab your horse and follow me.”

Fenris did as she’d suggested. They mounted their horses and let them walk leisurely southwards through the forest.

“So, what have you done that would make people chase you?” Hawke asked.

“What?”

“You asked that mercenary which one of us they were after, whereas I assumed right away that they were looking for me. I’ve pissed a lot of people off over the past couple of years. Well, more like for my whole life. I have a gift of pissing people off, as you well know.”

“I think it safe to say that I’m similarly gifted. I happened to anger a noble about a fortnight ago,” he replied, wishing that she would be happy with that amount of information.

“You ‘happened to anger a noble’ enough to have them send that many people after you?” she asked and whistled. “What did you do? Take his daughter’s virginity, seduce his son, and run away with his wife?”

Fenris felt the blush spread to his whole face. “Of course not! I would never do such a thing! I haven’t been with anyone since you.”

She looked at him. “Wow, Fenris, that’s…” she said and shook her head. “I was only teasing you. But seriously, what did you do?”

“A group of human men were bullying a Dalish girl. I couldn’t pass by without doing something. They didn’t listen to words, but they did listen to steel. One of them happened to be a noble’s son and he yelled threats after me when I left them to lie in their own blood and took the girl back to her clan. The Keeper was happy to get his First back.”

“You saved a Dalish mage?” she sounded astonished.

“Someone was in trouble and I helped. That someone happened to be Dalish and a mage. Let’s not make a bigger deal out of it than it was.”

“You really have changed, Fenris.”

“For the better, I hope.”

That’s when he saw it for the first time in over two years – her smile. And it was beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and feedback :)


	5. Some Things Don't Change

Fenris leaned against the wall next to the door to Gamlen’s dirty hovel. He was muddy, bloody, and tired but he chose to ignore it for the present. He perked his ears to hear what was going on behind the door through which Hawke had stepped a moment ago.

“Thank the Maker you are back!” Hawke’s mother said enthusiastically but her excitement didn’t last long. “Where is Carver?”

Fenris could only imagine what Hawke was feeling. There was tightness in his chest when he thought about her pain.

“I’m sorry. We encountered darkspawn. He… got the taint. He’s gone. I’m so sorry, mother.” It killed Fenris to hear Hawke sound so broken.

“Noooo! My baby! My baby boy!” Leandra Amell screamed. 

Fenris was sorry for the Amell family for their loss. Carver was… had been a son of a bitch – literally, because Fenris had no love for Leandra on account of how she treated her eldest daughter – but she did not deserve this. None of them did, not even Gamlen.

“I told you not to take him! My Carver, my baby! Now they’re both gone and it’s your fault! Why didn’t you look after them? Your father taught you better than that!”

Fenris’ stance stiffened and he growled. How could she? How could she blame Hawke? How dare she when Hawke had done everything in her power to keep him safe? How dare she when Hawke had been forced to kill her own brother? Something inside her had broken but she had done it.

Fenris barely managed to keep from barging inside and grapping the woman by the throat. Hawke wouldn’t thank him for roughing up her mother.

“Get out, get out! I can’t look at you right now!”

The door swung, making the old hinges cry for mercy. Hawke was fastening her cloak with shaking hands. Fenris caught a glimpse of her profile. He never wanted to see that expression on her face again.

“Hawke.”

She swirled around.

“Why are you here?” she demanded.

“I couldn’t leave.”

“What? Did some kid put glue on the doorstep or something?”

“Hawke…”

She shook her head. He wasn’t sure if it was at him or if it was to shake her mind empty of what had happened. She pulled her hood on, jumped onto the street, and headed towards the Hanged Man. He followed her quickly.

“I’m getting drunk,” she said. “Though I’m not sure if I can deal with people right now.”

“I have a wine cellar. It has lots of wine.”

She chuckled drily. “Done.”

They waded their way through the darkening night into Fenris’ mansion and its fine wine cellar. They went straight down, grabbed a bottle each, and sat down. They opened their bottles, clinked them together, and drank in silence, both trying to forget what it was that was haunting their minds.

“Do you remember how mad Carver got when we helped Anders get in touch with his lover?” Hawke said when the bottom of her bottle was visible. “He was such an asshole.”

“Hmph?”

“You know, right after we met you, he wouldn’t help us unless we helped him with that Circle mage? Carl was his name, I think.”

“He was Ander’s lover?”

“Are you blind, man? And deaf? Of course he was! That’s why Anders went all Justice on those Templars’ ass.”

“I was angry about that, too. Helping him, I mean.”

“Yes, but you’re always angry.”

“Am not.”

“He said, angrily,” said she and giggled. She hardly ever giggled. “It’s okay, it works for you. It’s part of your brooding charm.”

“For the last time, Hawke, I don’t brood.”

“You’re brooding right now,” she replied and turned to him. He could see her drunken state from her eyes. She raised her hand to his cheek and felt its lines with her thumb. He froze for a moment before allowing himself to relax and enjoy her soft touch. “See, these lines are from brooding. It’s so easy to do with a face like yours. And the fringe works well with it.”

Fenris felt the color rise on his cheeks. He could feel Hawke’s lithe body pressed against his as she leaned on him while she continued caressing his face. He was debating whether to put his arm around her and pull her even closer, into his lap. She could straddle him, press herself flush against him. He would be able to feel her curves and warmth through their clothes. He could finally feel what it would be like to hold her, what it would be like to touch her freely, just like he did in his dreams. He could kiss her. He could taste those soft lips with his, make her forget the pain and anxiety of the past weeks. He could take her right on that dirty, hard floor and make love to her until she forgot her own name.

Fenris had to blink to keep his thoughts from running away from him. He wished that Hawke was too drunk to notice his dilated pupils. When he looked into her eyes he could see that she was in another world, a painful one. Her hand was still moving mechanically on his cheek, but she was somewhere else.

“Hawke,” he said, gently.

“Why does my mother hate me?”

“She doesn’t hate you,” he replied, furious at Leandra. “She was upset and grieved by Carver’s death. She didn’t mean what she said.”

“She blamed me for his death. She blamed me for Bethany’s death, too.”

“She’s a simple woman. She needs someone to blame, but deep down she knows that it’s not your fault,” he said, against his better judgment. He did not have that much trust in Leandra Amell’s wisdom and inner strength, but he cared for her daughter enough to lie for her.

“I can always tell when you’re lying, you know,” was the reply. “I appreciate the effort, though.”

She settled down and leaned against his side with her head on his shoulder. “I’m my father’s daughter, daddy’s little girl. He’s the one who raised me, who taught me, who loved me. I was the eldest and the most powerful – it was my job to take care of the little ones, mommy’s babies. Dad taught me how to use my powers, how to survive on the road, how to keep sane, how to tell stories. He loved me as I was, whereas mother… I don’t know, it felt like she always wanted me to be something else. A lady, an all-powerful protector, an Amell… But I never was anything but a Hawke.”

He took her hand into his and squeezed it awkwardly. Comforting wasn’t a strength of his, but he wanted to do the best he could for her.

“That is plenty,” he said. It was more than enough. In his world, being Hawke was more than anyone could ever be. Did that make sense, he asked himself. If not, it didn’t matter. He understood himself when he was drunk.

“Thanks, Fenris,” she replied.

“For what?”

“For listening. For being there. For the shoulder to drunkenly slur on. And for the wine. The wine was great.”

“You want some more?”

“Yes, please.”

\--

“Fenris, are you awake?”

Hawke’s words shook Fenris from his memories. “Pardon, I was not paying attention.”

“Yeah, I caught that. That fight really did a number on you, huh? You must be getting old.”

“I’m not much older than you,” he grumbled as a reply.

“But I’m eternally young, thanks to blood magic.”

“What?!”

Hawke laughed out loud at the sight of his expression. “You should have seen your face! That was priceless.”

“You are not funny.”

“You make such an easy target, it would be impossible not to make fun of you.”

Fenris mumbled something, but it was impossible to be mad. “It’s good to see that some things haven’t changed.”

“It is,” she replied and stopped her horse. “Here we are. My campsite is not far from here. We should dismount and walk the horses there.”

Fenris followed her advice and dismounted. She went ahead with her steed and led them to a peaceful spot next to a small waterfall that fell into a pool. They dressed their horses down and fastened them to a tree next to the pool.

Hawke plopped to the ground and sighed. “Finally! It feels so good to sit on something that doesn’t move.”

Fenris sat down next to her. It did feel good to sit on the ground. He leaned on a nearby tree and closed his eyes for a moment.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any food, would you?” she asked.

“Not enough to keep two people fed until tomorrow.”

“Crap. That means hunting. I’m so not in the mood to go hunting.”

“Are you in the mood to starve?”

“You are such a spoilsport.”

“Some things don’t change,” he replied and opened his eyes. “Why don’t you gather wood for the fire and I’ll hunt something for us?”

“And end up eating squirrel again?” she asked and grimaced. “I don’t think so.”

“It was one time.”

“The one and only time we let you take care of the hunting. Once was enough,” she said and stood up. “I need some proper food after today.”

She stretched her sore muscles languidly. Fenris treasured every second of it which must have shown on his face when Hawke opened her eyes.

“Enjoying the show?” she asked.

“Definitely. Is there an encore?”

She smiled, walked to him, and touched gently the sensitive tip of his ear. “You should go get us some wood. I’ll go find a deer or something, I’m starving.”

Fenris swallowed when Hawke left. He had wood, but not the kind she had meant. It took a moment of breathing and thinking of Justice before he could move again with ease. He went to search for sticks suitable for a fire and thought about Hawke touching his ear.

\--

“Have I ever told you how much a love your ears?”

“What?” Fenris asked and looked up from his book. They were in the Hawke mansion, having one of their reading lessons. He was sitting on the floor in her den while she lounged in the chair right next to him. She was looking at his ears with an intent expression.

“Your ears. I love them. They are so very you.”

“You are not making any sense, Hawke.”

“You never think I make any sense,” she replied, unfazed. She reached her hand towards his ear but stopped before touching it. “May I?”

Fenris’ heartbeat sped up. She was going to touch his ear? “Fine.”

Fenris almost whined the moment her cool, soft hand touched the tip of his ear. The touch was so intimate, so gentle. No one had ever touched him like that. There had never been anyone he would have allowed to touch him like that; no one but Hawke. Her fingers followed the shapes, ghosting on his skin. From the corner of his eye he saw her expression of concentration and wonder. She didn’t look at him like he was a freak because he was different from her. She looked at him like he was something wonderful and precious, someone she wanted to know throughout. That look made his heart melt. Maker, he loved this woman.

Wait, what?

That couldn’t be right. He didn’t love, he wasn’t capable. Danarius, Hadriana, and his life as a slave had made him unable to value anything that could be taken away from him.

That was when Gamlen rushed in and spoiled their moment. “Where is your mother? She was supposed to meet me an hour ago, but I haven’t heard from her.”

“Calm down, Gamlen, we’ll find her.”

\--

Fenris had the fire going and the spit ready by the time Hawke returned with a small deer on her shoulders. It looked comical when such a tiny woman was carrying a carcass that seemed as big as her. 

“What are you grinning at?” she asked after she’d dropped the animal down.

“I would prefer not to explain because you would punch me.” He knew that she was a tad touchy about her size when annoyed.

“Wisdom comes with age, it would appear.”

A second age jab? Fenris decided that the time had come for some payback. He looked at her with inquisitive eyes. “Hmm. You are still not growing a beard. That makes you the second beardless dwarf I know.”

She punched him in the arm. “Just for that, you are cooking.”

“I make one joke about your size after you’ve jabbed at my age twice and I have to cook? How is that just?” he grumbled, but got on with preparing the deer for the spit.

“I can joke about age because I’m getting old too, but you aren’t getting smaller.”

“You are not making any sense, Hawke.”

“You never think I make any sense,” she replied. “But fine. How about I help you with that? I’m starving.”

He smiled to himself. “I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and feedback :)


	6. The Lady in Black

”Your cooking skills have improved noticeably during the past couple of years,” Hawke said and took another bite of the deer Fenris had roasted under her supervision. ”I guess that is not too surprising, since you used to exist on wine alone. I bet the forest hasn’t been rife with wine bottles for you to find.”

Fenris huffed. ”I did know how to cook. I simply chose not to.”

”Yeah, right,” she replied. ”Tell me a story of your life on the road.”

”Why? I’m not much of a storyteller.”

”Indulge me.”

”I left Kirkwall for Minrathous. I left Minrathous for Lothering. From there on I tried to follow leads, but wasn’t successful at first.”

”Wait, you went to Lothering?”

”Yes, I saw your old house. I saw your father’s grave and paid my respects. That reminds me,” he said and rummaged through his backpack until he found what he was looking for. He took the object out and offered it to Hawke. ”I found this at your house. I thought you might like to have it.”

Hawke took the grubby pendant and stared at it. Her countenance displayed a mixture of emotions that was too complex for Fenris to figure out. Grief was a big part of it, that much he could tell. ”This was Bethany’s. Mom gave it to her on her tenth birthday. She lost it around the time we had to leave. It was the one thing she would have wanted to bring from home to Kirkwall,” she said and looked up at him. “I can’t believe you found this. Thank you, Fenris.”

He shrugged. ”Don’t mention it.”

Hawke gave the pendant a sad smile and pocketed it carefully. ”That was pretty sly, you know. I asked you to tell a story, but somehow you turned the tables and made me tell one instead.”

”That was not my intention,” replied he, ”though you are the storyteller, not I.”

”Come on, Fenris, it has been ages since I’ve had anyone spin the tale. I miss it.”

Fenris smiled crookedly. If she wanted a story, he would give her a story; one of his favorites of the ones he’d heard during the past year. ”Fine, Hawke, I shall spin the tale for you.”

”Excellent.”

”About a month ago I was passing through a small village. It was nothing special – a small village like any other in this part of the world, known and loved only by the ones who happened to live there. At the center of the town, if such a town could be said to have a center, a scene was taking place…”

\--

“A monster, horrible, blood-curdling monster!” a withered old man was yelling at the top of his lungs when Fenris arrived. “Almost made me wet me pants like a wee bairn.”

“Calm down, Angus,” one of the gathered villagers said and patted the old man on the back. “Did someone wake you mid-nap again, old-timer?”

“It was a monster and that’s the honest truth! Sweet Andraste, it tried to kill me! See, it stepped on me stick!” the elder said, displaying his broken walking stick as evidence.

Fenris dismounted and led his horse closer to the commotion. This sounded like a lead.

“Why don’t you sit down, Angus, and tell us what happened,” a kindly woman said and showed the old man to a seat. Someone handed him a pint and he took a long swig.

Angus calmed down and looked at the gathered villagers. “The other day I heard wee Shaemus telling his mother about some shroons he’d seen in the forest. I kenned straight away those shroons by the lad’s description. Me mate, Davey, told me years ago about them shroons and what man can do with them. So, I went to look for them.”

“I heard Shaemus, too. He said he saw strange, tall mushrooms. They were black with a rounded, brown top, and dark tubers. Sounds an awful lot like mentula feri,” said a woman Fenris assumed to be the local healer.

“Dunno about that, lass, but we used to known them as monster’s cocks,” Angus replied, unabashed. “Old Davey used to say that they’d get a lass very keen on churning butter, if ye ken what I mean.”

That was a euphemism Fenris hadn’t heard before. He rolled his eyes to his horse.

“Anyhoo, I found the clearing the lad had talked about. The shroons were there alright. I settled down to pick them when something stirred in the bushes all sudden like. I looked up and do ye ken what I saw?” 

“What did you see?” a fascinated little girl asked.

“A walking tree!”

“A walking tree?” a member of the audience asked in disbelief. “Did you collect the mushrooms into your mouth?”

“No, I swear it! It was a walking tree, a real monster if I ever saw one. It was thirty feet tall and its arms stretched 15 feet wide! Its eyes were burning embers and its mouth was dripping with the blood of its previous victim!”

“Did it try to eat you?” a small boy inquired from the folds of his mother’s dress where he’d hid.

“Aye! It swung its long arms and came at me, stepped on me stick. Would have gotten me, too, if it weren’t for the Lady in Black.”

Fenris perked up his ears. This was promising.

“Lady in Black?” asked the cynical listener who still seemed to think that Angus had only seen what one saw after eating questionable mushrooms that were shaped like a monster’s privates. “A member of nobility just happened to be passing through the forest, taking a leisurely walk through monster-infested woods?”

“Sent by Andraste herself,” Angus replied devoutly. “Made me thank the Maker, she did. The lady was a mage. She cast spells on the tree monster, making it even angrier. Women can be like that, ye ken – it is a skill they have, making men crazy with one look. I was afraid for me life, but she just laughed. ‘A walking tree,’ she said. ‘That’s a first.’ She fought it to the ground and burned it to ashes without breaking a sweat.”

“Mages have terrifying powers. Why wasn’t she in the Circle? She must have been an apostate,” a judgmental man commented.

Angus gave him an ugly glance. “Ye so keen on me death, is that it? Ye’d have preferred it killed me?”

“No, of course not, that’s not what I meant,” the man replied hastily. “I only wanted to point out that she was probably more dangerous than anything else in the woods.”

You have no idea, Fenris thought.

“She was a lady, she was, and saved me life,” answered Angus. “It doesna matter to me what the Templars say. They werena there to save me, she was.”

“What happened next?” the little girl asked.

“She looked at what remained of the monster. ‘A tree possessed by a demon. How curious,’ the lady said to herself. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked me. I got up and got a good look at her. She was a bonnie lass, raven hair and blue eyes. ‘Aye, thanks be to ye, ladyship. Ye saved me life,’ replied I. ‘It was my pleasure, sir. It helped pass the time.’”

“I see, next you’re going to tell us that she turned into a bird or a wolf or something and disappeared?” the cynic said. “Or a ghost, who had been doomed to walk this world in corporeal form?”

Angus glared at him. “No, she was a real lady, ye twat. She said that she was sorry about me stick, wished me a good day, and went her way.”

“Didn’t she give her name?” one of the women asked.

“Probably didn’t want the Templars catching on to her,” the man with mage-issues commented.

“She was the Lady in Black,” Angus replied with the air of finality. “She saved me life. Her name doesna matter.”

\--

“You’re telling me that the old guy was in the forest to gather aphrodisiac mushrooms?” Hawke asked with a grin. “I never would have guessed. Good for him and his lady friend.”

“Do you know why they kept referring to you as the Lady in Black?” Fenris asked.

She scrutinized his countenance. “I can tell from your expression that there’s more to it than being a woman in black clothing. You’re dying to tell me, so go ahead.”

“It was a local legend. Apparently some wayward travelers have been saved by a black-clad woman several times over the centuries.”

“That still doesn’t explain your expression.”

“She is called a lady, because she was the wife of a cruel nobleman who abused her. She wandered around the forest to find someone to love her.”

Hawke sighed heavily. “When you say ‘love’, you mean sex, don’t you? These kinds of legends are always about sex.”

“The Lady in Black was known to bed every man she saved, yes.”

Hawke groaned, making Fenris laugh at her expression. “If that old fool claimed that I so much as touched him, I’m going back there and showing him what I think about old men who spread false tales about people who saved their lives.”

“Rest easy, Hawke,” Fenris calmed her. “He didn’t impugn your honor. He merely connected you to the legend because he was grateful and impressed by your power and beauty. Though he did say, ‘If ye ever find her, let her ken I’m keeping some of those monster’s cocks should she want to try them.’”

“Ugh.”

“Really, Hawke?” Fenris teased. “You have no curiosity to see if mentula feri makes you want to ‘churn butter’?”

“I’ve never needed mushrooms to get me in the mood.”

The sultry quality of Hawke’s voice made Fenris’ throat feel suddenly very dry. It had been a long time since he’d last heard her use that voice. He could remember all too well the things it had said to him then. What it had told him to do. What he’d felt when he’d obeyed it.

“Are you okay, Fenris? You look a little hot.”

Hawke was grinning at him. He could feel her presence more acutely even though she hadn’t moved an inch. She had to know what she was doing. 

“Anyway, thanks for dinner. I’m going to take a dip,” she said, got up, and stretched. Fenris looked hungrily at her movements and the curves that were revealed when her cloak moved with the stretches. He followed her with his eyes when she walked to the small pond, dropping pieces of clothing on the way. He knew that he probably should look away, but he couldn’t muster the power to turn his gaze from her figure. A few scars had been added to what he remembered, but other than that she looked exactly like she had that night. Fenris felt his heart skip a beat when she was finally naked and jumped into the water. She resurfaced a moment later to waft in the water with her head and shoulders held above the surface. Her expression was carefree and displayed enjoyment of the simple pleasure of swimming after a long and arduous day. The moon gave her wet hair a silvery halo. She could have passed for a being from legends. No wonder so many had mistaken her for such. Or had it been a mistake? Wasn’t she a living legend?

“What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?”

Hawke’s voice shook Fenris from his thoughts. The woman in the pond, as heroic and powerful as she was, was also a real person. She was neither a fairy tale creature nor a saint. She was the woman Fenris loved. And she was naked and asking him to join her.

“Are you saying one could be arranged?” he inquired while already in the process of removing his armor.

“Bite me.”

“As you wish,” replied he. “But give me a minute – my armor is more difficult to remove than yours.”

“I remember. You should do something about that.”

Getting rid of the armor would have been much less difficult if Fenris hadn’t been aroused. Removing tight leggings when he was sporting wood was not the easiest thing he had ever done. Finally he was able to ditch the last armor pieces and hastened to the pond. He hardly noticed the coolness of the water in his haste to get to Hawke. He stopped when he reached her, remaining close, but not touching.

Hawke reached out and touched his cheek. “Did I ever tell you that you have very expressive eyes?” she asked hoarsely, almost in a whisper. “Since the first moment I met you, I’ve always been able to tell what you think by looking at your eyes. When you don’t cover them, that is.”

“What are they telling you now?”

“That you meant it when you said that you love me.”

He locked eyes with her. “Are you looking at me?”

“Yes.”

He paused for a while, making sure that he had her attention. Then he said, slowly and deliberately, “I love you.”

She must truly have believed him because she threw her arms around him and kissed him fiercely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I had fun writing this.
> 
> Yeah, Angus is trying to be Scottish, so the imperfections in language were planned. But I may need to point out at this juncture that I'm not a native speaker and that I don't have a beta. So pardon my insufficient English, typos, etc.
> 
> No, I probably won't be able to update during the holidays since I have to work. But I don't intend to stop here, so not to worry.
> 
> Thanks for reading and feedback! Happy holidays!


	7. Hope And Debauchery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Er... Um... This is NSFW, as you well know.

Fenris was awash with emotions. He was elated that she still wanted him, rapturous that she believed that he loved her, exhilarated for finally being able to touch her like he wanted, hopeful that the future would be filled with moments like this. The swirl of emotions would have taken him with it had it not been drowned by the whirlpool of lust that was gaining momentum with every moan, gasp, and touch. He longed to press Hawke against his hard cock, but the water made it difficult to maintain contact because they had to stay afloat while kissing. Fenris decided that the time had come to move things along. He pulled away from Hawke, took her by the hand, and headed to the shore.

As soon as they were on solid ground again, he pulled her into his arms and practically wrapped himself around her. She moaned hungrily and rubbed herself against his hips, eliciting an answering moan from him. He slipped his hands behind her ass to press her even harder against his erection. She chuckled darkly into his mouth.

“Seems like you really missed me,” said she.

Fenris was beyond speech at that point. He simply had to have her. Right away. They hadn’t put their bedrolls out yet, so that was out of the question. He pushed her against a nearby tree and lifted her up. She hooked her legs around him to hold steady. He lined himself with her opening and thrust into her. The familiar feeling of her – the tightness, the wetness, the warmth… He had to pause to catch his breath not to come right there and then.

“Neither of us is getting younger here. Fuck me already!” she groaned impatiently and wiggled her hips as much as she was able in her position. The small movement and the words made Fenris let go of restraint. He growled and began pounding into her fiercely. His thrusts were received with responsive movements and loud sounds of pleasure. He felt his peak closing, so he quickened his pace even more, his marks glowing slightly in the dark. He slipped his hand between them to rub her clit. That finished her. He’d never forget what she looked like when she came with his name on her lips. Her convulsions made it for him and he joined her on the peak of pleasure, making the few lasts thrusts before pausing altogether to breathe, his head leaning against hers. They looked each other in the eye and smiled. Fenris felt the weight of his lost memories pressing on, but he pushed them decidedly away. He didn’t care about the past; he cared about the moment right then, Hawke in his arms, so close that he was still inside of her. He smiled blissfully and kissed her.

“If you’re looking for round two, I suggest we take the bedrolls out,” she said after the kiss. “As fantastic as that was – and believe me, it was – I don’t think my back can take it again too soon.”

He pulled hastily away from her and let her down to her feet. Then he made her turn around to look at the marks he had given her by banging her into the tree. They were red and looked sore; there was even some blood.

“Hawke…”

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” she told him. “Never be sorry for sex like that, Fenris. Just grab me a health potion and grin with self-satisfaction for making me explode like gaatlok.”

He got her the health potion which she downed at once. She turned her back to him so he could see the potion taking effect. The marks disappeared gradually until there were none left.

“See? Good as new,” she said, put the bottle away, and went to get their bedrolls. She set them next to each other on the ground and sat down on the makeshift bed. She patted the bed with her hand and looked at him, the invitation clear in her eyes. He obeyed and went to sit beside her. She crawled into his lap and straddled him, her eyes coming to level with his.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he replied with a gooey smile.

“Maker, Fenris, you look so happy it’s weird,” she commented with a crooked grin. “I should do something about it to make you look more like you.” With that she slid her hand down and grabbed his cock, causing him to let out an incoherent noise. “Let’s get on with round two.”

\--

They did eventually finish having sex, mainly because they acknowledge the need for sleep. Hawke fell asleep almost immediately, curled up in a little ball in her bedroll. Fenris gathered her gently into his arms. “I am hers,” was his last thought before sleep took him.

\--

In his home in Tevinter Imperium, Feynriel went to sleep with determination. He hadn’t heard from Marian Hawke in too long and was anxious to know that everything was alright with his savior. His eagerness to hear from her may have had a little to do with the precious crush he’d harbored for her since she’d rescued him. Many others would not have bothered to help his mother. Even fewer would have allowed him to live with the Dalish. Probably no one else would have come to the Fade for him, aided him into seeing the texture of Fade around him, and let him travel to Tevinter to hone his skills. And that was all before she’d killed a powerful magister and freed all his slaves. Marian was truly one of a kind.

As soon as he was in the Fade, Feynriel looked for Marian, honing in on her signal fire, as he thought of it. He opened a portal into her dream and stepped through into her dream landscape. It looked like it had the couple of times he had visited her dream before. He walked through the desolate, burnt world towards the center. He’d guessed that all of this had been a lush forest at some point, but now it was gone – lightning had taken some, storms some, floods some, and the fire had finished what had been left. The only thing standing was the massive oak in the middle. Marian was sitting on one of its sturdy branches, just like before, staring at the always setting sun.

“Marian,” he called out to her.

Her delicate head swiveled around and she spotted him. The smile spreading on her face made him giddy with hope. “Feynriel! Good to see you, little dreamwalker. How are things?”

The “little” stung a bit, but he didn’t show it. He went closer to give her a hug. It felt good to hold her. Maybe one day she wouldn’t want to let go.

“Things are good, Marian,” he replied when they had both settled on the ground. “I’m learning something new every day.”

“Aren’t we all,” said she with a smile he couldn’t figure out. “Have you heard from your mother?”

He huffed. “All. The. Time.” He rolled his eyes.

She punched his shoulder. “Cut that out. I know she can be a handful, but she loves you and she worries for you. You should be happy that you have someone like that in your life, even if it is sometimes annoying.”

He rubbed his tingling shoulder. “Ouch, fine, I’ll try. What have you been up to?”

“You know, the usual – killed some people and monsters, nothing special,” she replied in an off-hand way. Her tone made him focus on her face more carefully. Was he imagining it, or did her expression appear a tad more open? Should he ask about it? Would he dare?

He noticed that she was deep in thought, staring at something on the ground. He sought what she was looking at and was surprised to see a sapling that hadn’t been there on his previous visits. It was pushing up from the torn and burnt remains of a giant tree that had grown next to the oak. Her smile was almost gentle when she looked at the little sapling.

Feynriel could hardly believe it; hope had entered into Marian’s world. What had happened? Had that sapling been there before he had called to her? Or had it appeared with him? But if it was because of him, why was it spurting from the ruins of great tree that had been close to the oak?

“You are being awfully quiet,” she said.

He shook his head to get his thoughts under control. “Uh… You think so? I guess I’m tired.”

“As am I, and for the best reasons,” she replied with a satisfied grin that made him feel jealous. It was just like the one he’d seen on the day he’d ran into her on the street. Which reminded him… 

“Grumio and Melaenis told me to say ‘hi’,” he said. “They were very particular about it, too.” So particular that it had made him wonder.

He didn’t enjoy at all the saucy grin that spread on her face. “I bet they did,” she said. “I remember them fondly. Please say ‘hi’ back from me.”

“You have the exact same expression as they did when they told me to speak to you! What in Maker’s name happened that makes you all look like that when you think about it?” It made Feynriel crazy, thinking what the two ridiculously handsome apprentices could have done to make her smile like that. He’d heard the rumors about those two – women just looooved them, apparently.

“You’re too young and innocent for things like that, little dreamwalker.”

“I’m not that much younger than them. Actually, I think that Melaenis is only six months older than me.”

“But innocent he definitely isn’t. Trust me. He has seen things and done--” she cut herself off with a moan. His head whipped around so fast he’d have hurt his neck if they weren’t in the Fade. Her eyes were wide with lust and she was squirming. Another moan escaped from her mouth. She glanced at the sapling and grinned.

“I have to go. I think I’m being woken up in the best way possible. Take care, little dreamwalker,” she said and vanished, leaving Feynriel staring at the spot where she’d been.

“What the fuck is going on?”

\--

Fenris was pleased to have Hawke wake up with his head between her legs and his tongue deep inside her. He would have laughed if he hadn’t been busy doing what he was doing. He was determined to bring her to orgasm before she could say anything. Only a little more effort was required before he succeeded.

He licked his lips and looked at Hawke’s blissfully oblivious expression. “Good morning, Hawke,” he said and kissed her, giving her a taste of herself at the same time.

“Mmm,” was all she was capable of saying for a while. Fenris grinned at her smugly while she gathered herself. “It is a good morning,” she finally managed. “And you’re still here, I see.”

He knew that he deserved that, but it hurt all the same. “Of course I’m still here. I’ll be here for as long as you let me. And should you seem disinclined to let me stay, I have ways of proving how useful and – most of all – pleasing it is to keep me around.” He slipped his hand between her legs to demonstrate his meaning. “I have spent years dreaming about you, Hawke. Much of that has been spent thinking what I want to do with you and to you. Trust me, last night was only the beginning.”

“So, you’re basically saying that you’ll fuck me into letting you stay with me?”

“Love you, fuck you, suck you, lick you, bite you, bind you… Whatever it takes,” he promised. He needed to say more but he wasn’t quite certain that he had the right words. “Hawke, I… My life is not…” He paused and breathed.

“What is it, Fenris?” she sat up and looked at him, her eyes focused on his.

“When you left… After what I did… My life… No, not my life, but I. I fell apart. I kept going on like I had before because I had to. I did what I had to do but I didn’t care. It was as if I was a slave again. It took me time to realize that you were what made me feel truly free. You made me care about my life and about others. Without you I may have been free, but it was meaningless, empty. I didn’t have to think twice when I got your letter.” He looked at her inscrutable expression. “I know that I hurt you. I have no words to express how sorry I am. Please, please try to forgive me. If you cannot, at least don’t send me away. Let me come with you.”

She moved closer to him and hugged him without saying anything. He hugged her back and kept wishing that she’d let him stay while fearing that she wouldn’t. He wished he could have known what was going on in her head.

After a long time she whispered something that made him freeze on spot. He had to make sure that he’d heard her correctly. “Pardon?”

“I’ve missed you, Fenris.”

The corners of his eyes moistened. “You have?”

“Of course I have, you idiot. You were my best friend before we became anything else. Love like that doesn’t just go away, even when it hurts like blazes.”

“Does that mean that I can stay with you?” he asked, holding his breath.

“For now, at least,” she replied. “We’ll reassess the situation after your list of erotic scenarios runs out.”

He dared to breathe again and looked at her mischievous expression. “That is not happening in the foreseeable future.”

“Oh?”

“I consulted a number of books for the purpose. You’d be surprised the kind of volumes that have made it into the seneschal’s library.”

“Knowing the creep I totally wouldn’t be,” replied she. “Isn’t it the seneschal’s job to arrange a sex scandal of some sort when the need arises?”

“His library looks like he is preparing for such an occasion.”

Hawke got into his lap and put her arms around him. “And poor you had to read all those despicable, fitly books?”

He laid her back on the bedroll and settled between her legs. He leaned on his elbow while employing his other hand about her breasts, making her gasp. “Yes, can you imagine it? Such images of lecherous nature, burned into my mind forever for later use in my own debauchery.”

“You kept it going well until then,” she said, her voice deep with lust. She was pleased that he’d moved his hand from her breasts to further down.

“My apologies,” he said and kissed her. “I find myself a little preoccupied with the debauchery I was talking about.”

“So I see. I was always baffled by that word. What does it mean?”

Fenris pulled his hand from between her legs. He smiled at how wet his fingers were. “That is a hole in your general knowledge, Hawke. I’ll do my best to fill it.”

“Bring it on,” she moaned.

“So I shall,” he replied and entered her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *grinning*
> 
> Thanks for reading and feedback! Happy new year! :)


	8. You've Got Mail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I've been getting into raiding in Guild Wars 2, and that is taking both time and effort.

Fenris was lying on his back with his hands behind his head. He was enjoying the warmth of the sun with his eyes closed. He was happier and more relaxed than he could ever have believed possible, at least not before finding Hawke again. The past seven months or so had been bliss. They had traveled together, faced danger together, had fun together. They’d had deep discussions and lighthearted foolery; they’d laughed and even cried. The sex had been fantastic, not to mention the closeness of sleeping in each other’s arms every single night. Fenris hadn’t put much thought into what afterlife could be, but the time he’d spent with Hawke was pretty much it.

Sure, there had been issues. Hawke was slow to trust, with good reason. She grew often restless and had worse nightmares than Fenris. Even though she had been opening up to him, little by little, he knew that she kept her innermost self bottled off from him. He wasn’t without fault, either. He had his spikes, though he was trying to file them down. It was an effort to manage his life-long hatred of magic and the fact that the love of his life was a mage. Sometimes it all boiled over, resulting in a fight. They fought it out and then had amazing make up sex.

Fenris sighed. They had been at the beach, enjoying the sun for a few weeks and he could tell that Hawke was growing restless again. The restlessness was something she had acquired since Kirkwall. Not that he could blame her – she’d had a home and a life there. Losing her family and him (he sighed again, this time with regret) had made her rootless. She went where she wanted and when she wanted; it didn’t seem like she felt the need to stay still, make a home. It was close to how Fenris had felt when he’d been on the run. But he’d take being with Hawke over stability any day of the week.

A shadow passed over Fenris. Something brushed against his cheek and he felt a small weight settle on his chest. He opened his eyes and found a pigeon sitting on his chest, staring at him. He sat up, forcing the pigeon to relocate into his lap. A flapping of wings brought another pigeon that landed next to its fellow. A third one arrived a moment later, crash landing on Fenris’ head.

“What in Maker’s name is going on?”

He could hear Hawke laughing nearby. “You’ve got mail.”

“I can see that. The question is – why?” he said and removed the pigeon less than gently from atop his head. “What is so damn important that you need to send three birds at the same time?”

“Adventure’s calling.”

“Or dinner,” he replied and gave the pigeons a murderous look. They’d better not relieve themselves on him or they would certainly be dinner. He grumbled to himself while he retrieved the messages the birds were carrying. Hawke came over to him and sat down next to him.

“What is it?” she asked, beaming with excitement.

Fenris smiled at her and gave her a small kiss on the cheek before unrolling the first letter. “Broody,” it said, “I know you have issues and I have issues with your issues but this is serious. You have to come back! The city is going crazy (well, crazier) with the war that is brewing between mages and Templars. The death of the Viscount left a power vacuum and Meredith stepped in. I don’t believe half the stuff Blondie tells me about the goings on in the Circle, but I’ve seen enough to know it’s bad. Elthina is sitting on her hands and Orsino is useless. Meredith has gone loopy in the head with power and the mages aren’t any better, what with all the blood magic orgies and stuff going on at night. It’s really freaking me out. I hate to say this, but we need you. Your position as the Champion of Kirkwall makes you a voice that has to be heard. You are the only one Meredith could possibly listen to. I won’t shoot you, I promise. Unless you don’t come back. Don’t make me beg, elf! Varric.”

“That sounds…” Hawke said, her voice fading away at a loss for the right words.

“Yes, it does,” Fenris agreed. He opened the second letter.

“Champion,” it said, “Writing you is an act of desperation that I hope will testify to the gravity of our plight. Your views on mages and magic are well known throughout Kirkwall, but you are not an unreasonable man. Knight Commander Meredith has seized control of the city after the passing of Viscount Dumar and turned Kirkwall into a Templar-controlled police state. Even the Circle mages aren’t safe. There are more Tranquil every day. No matter what we give up and how well we behave, it is never enough for Meredith. With the Grand Cleric’s silence, we are at a loss. You are our last hope, Champion. Please, help us. With respect, First Enchanter Orsino.”

“Orsino’s writing you? He really must be desperate.”

“So it would seem.”

“Who’s the last one from? Meredith?”

“I highly doubt it,” Fenris mused. “It sounds like she has the perfect situation. Why would she want me there?”

“True. You might cramp her style,” Hawke said. “I’ve got to say, I’m sort of impressed that Orsino really wrote you. It says a lot about your last years in Kirkwall that he’d turn to you in need, regardless of your policy on magic.”

Fenris shrugged. “I worked with him a few times. He is a politician and that makes him shifty, but you see worse characters on the streets every day.”

“Wait a moment,” said she. “Did you just admit that a mage is not a bad person?” she asked and mussed his hair playfully.

“Calling him a politician is hardly a compliment, Hawke,” he pointed out. “But my favorite person is a mage, so they aren’t all bad,” he said and kissed her.

“Oh, Maker, you can be so cheesy sometimes,” she replied with an actual giggle. All said and done, she didn’t seem to mind the cheesiness. “Go one, open the last one. I’m dying to know who sent it.”

“Alright, hold your horses,” he said and opened the last letter.

“Fenris,” it said in neat handwriting, “It has been too long, my friend. I apologize for not corresponding; that was negligent of me. Do not take my inactivity as a sign of not caring about your wellbeing. But alas, it is not good tidings that forced me finally to grab a quill. Your city needs you, Champion of Kirkwall. The unrest between mages and Templars is spreading beyond the limits of the Circle. Every day I pray the Maker for forgiveness for all the things we do wrong in this city, but it is never enough, such is the amount of misdeeds. The conflict is tearing us apart, turning son against father, mother against daughter, and siblings against each other. I look to Grand Cleric Elthina for guidance, as always, but she chooses to be neutral and show Maker’s love to all equally. I am certain that there is wisdom in her choice, but it escapes me still. We need you, Fenris. You are the only one who could make things right again. I am counting on seeing you soon, my friend. Maker’s blessings onto you! Sebastian.”

“Aw, I miss him,” Hawke said. “I wonder if his armor is still as shiny as ever.”

Fenris nodded. The letters had painted a picture he did not like. The situation in Kirkwall had to be dire for those three to have considered it necessary to contact him. Could he really do what they wanted him to do? Would his presence make any difference at all? Or would it make things worse? Did he even want to go back? And what about Hawke? He absolutely could not and would not go back without her.

He looked at Hawke who was staring intently at his changing expressions. “What are you thinking?” he inquired.

“You’re going, right? I mean, you have to! You are their Champion and it’s obvious that they need you.”

“If I went, would you come with me?”

“Of course. I can’t let you have all the fun, can I?” she replied with a grin. “I’ve been yearning for an adventure and this seems promising. Plus, it would be nice to see everyone again.”

Fenris pulled her into an eager kiss. Getting her back to Kirkwall had been his secret dream. Maybe they could stop there for a time. He wanted to show her the improvements his mansion had gone through. He wanted to make love to her in a proper bed. And in every room of his house. And hers.

Then he thought of the situation the letters had described. Templars everywhere. Circle mages being made Tranquil. Meredith viewing every mage as a threat…

“I’m not sure we can go, after all,” he said slowly.

“Whyever not?”

“Because you are a blood mage and Meredith is wielding the power in Kirkwall. It pains me to think what she’d do to you if she caught you,” he said with a chill settling in his heart.

“Fuck Meredith, I’m not afraid of her or her Templars,” Hawke stated. “What she’s doing is wrong and I’m not going to stand for it. Someone needs to stop her before it’s too late. Knowing what I know now, I’m going to go to Kirkwall and kick her ass, with or without you.”

Fenris took her hand in his. “But what if they…”

“They won’t. I won’t give them a chance, and neither will you, I know that. I’m not a helpless, powerless victim, Fenris. You should know that by now.”

“I do know that, Hawke, trust me. But it doesn’t mean that I won’t worry for you. It doesn’t mean that I stop protecting you. If we go to a place that is so hostile to mages, it’s going to be much harder to keep you safe, which is something that is of utmost importance to me. I saw what life was without you. I don’t ever want to go through that again.”

“Well, tough luck, because I am going to Kirkwall. Are you coming with me or not?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

\--

They left the beach the next morning. Fenris sent a message to Varric to inform the dwarf that he was on his way. Hawke made him promise not to disclose that she was accompanying him – she wanted it to be a surprise. Despite his worry for her safety, he felt a stirring of excitement while they traveled towards the place he had once called home. It had been a long time since he’d been there. Like Hawke, he was looking forward to seeing their friends again.

He had no illusions about the task that lay before them. It wouldn’t be a simple matter of marching into the city, punching Meredith in the face, and telling her to behave. Even though he was the Champion, the shine had to have faded during his absence. He’d need to convince the people of Kirkwall that he was on their side. And he would have to avoid getting pulled into the power vacuum, like Meredith had. Not that he thought anyone crazy enough to suggest it, but he did not want to be the Viscount.

“You are thinking hard on something,” Hawke said. She was riding beside him through the countryside. They would be at the coast the next day, ready to board a vessel to the City of Chains.

“They can’t want me to be the Viscount, can they?”

“Why not? You’d look amazing on the official portrait.”

Fenris grinned. “I think there’s more to it than posing for paintings.”

“And waving.”

“Yes, one mustn’t forget the waving,” he admitted. “But in all seriousness, who should I push for Meredith’s replacement? Aveline?”

Hawke shook her head. “She’d hate it. She’s a guard, not a politician. She’d call bullshit and piss all the nobs off.”

“Then who?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you with that. I’m completely out of touch with the people who think they are someone in Kirkwall,” she said. “I’m sure there is at least one decent person who can do a medium job. That’s all that’s required really.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“It’s not like you have to worry about that now, anyway. First you need to boot Meredith.”

“Easier said than done,” Fenris said pensively. “I have a feeling she won’t be happy to let go of the strings she has been gathering. And as long as the unstable situation continues, people might not be willing to see her go. She tells them to be afraid and they are more than happy to oblige as long as the status quo remains.”

“So, game plan is to clear the streets, kick Meredith’s ass, find someone to replace her, and get drunk at the Hanged Man?”

“Something in that vein, yes,” he replied with a smile. “Though I think getting drunk can’t wait that long.”

“Miss your wines, do you?”

“Not so much as I want to try this thing I read about in one of the seneschal’s books,” he said and gave her a wicked grin, “I think it was called ‘a body shot’…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and feedback! Hope you're enjoying a pretty winter :)


End file.
